


Black Cat

by GrepBaldwin (orphan_account)



Series: Grimmdark AU [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GrepBaldwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is said that black cats are sources of misfortune, omens of bad things to come. But who can claim to be more unfortunate than the one labeled as a precursor to evil, the beast that brings troubles, a black cat of misfortune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Cat

Weiss Schnee stood outside the hotel room door. She was cold, a bit of snow had sunk into the deep parts of her boots and into the folds of her coat. She shivered.  
There was no particular reason for her to be stood there, holding the key in her hand but not entering the room. She felt paralyzed, unable to move as the invisible chains held her back. Weiss became distinctly aware of the weight of the bag in her right hand, and of the buzzing of the air condition set into the ceiling above her. And as she stood there before the door she felt that there was something lacking in this scene, some element out of place.

What she felt was rather simple to describe, this absence, and it was cold. Cold, as it is known by all, is an absence of heat. Heat, the power of kinetic energy, from fire and the blazing hearts of young souls does heat in all it’s forms come from. From the sun’s blaze to the passionate words of the inspired heat comes from many places, but it is always warm. 

But their fire had been taken from them. It had blazed mightily, it’s very heights of power desperately fighting against the cruel fate before it. By that power, and something darker yet, the cold touch of death was thwarted. But not denied. They had been given back their comrade, but it had taken their golden beauty from them. 

Weiss could feel it getting closer to her, the cold was creeping all around her and the frost was covering the paths before her. It was a costly thing to be without a flame, for she felt that something else stood to find them in the cold. Fate, or something else was pushing some darkness closer to them and she could feel it in every movement she made. And as she gripped the doorknob, the lock clicking as the key fit into the hole, she felt as if some symbolic interaction had taken place there. That she, in opening this door, was inviting what ever was to come into her own heart. But the handle still turned, and the tapestry would yet be woven before her. To whatever end. 

~~~~~~

Blake Belladonna was burning. There was a flame dancing beneath her skin, licking her flesh with tongues of heat. The fire blazed as if the sun was within her chest and it was unrelenting and cruel as she lay writhing upon the rough cushions of the hotel couch. 

She had been laying there since she had arrived, moving past her teammates and collapsing upon the burgundy furniture. Weiss had carried Ruby into the bedroom of the suite, laying the huntress down and tucking her into the covers with a softness that Blake had not known the heiress capable. But the ways of the heiress had always been foreign to the young faunas, her icy exterior had never given way to Blake’s prying. And that was all there was to it.

Her teammate had left the suite without a word after she was done fretting over Ruby. Blake did not move from the spot where she had collapsed, feeling rather exhausted after the night’s events. She fell asleep at some point, and the White Fang’s attack played over in her mind as she slept.

It wasn’t enough they had beaten her to unconsciousness, in fact she could barely grasp how she survived the encounter. It started with a chase, a threat by a lone member. Then another caught her over the head with a baton, others quickly joining as she was attempting to recover. She had lost her grip on Gambol Shroud at some point of the scuffle, but it had mattered very little as the fight ended quickly. The last things she saw before she lost consciousness was the blood on the cement, and golden brawler rushing towards her. 

The fire under her skin was relatively new, however, having only started to burn after she had fallen asleep upon reaching the suite. It was that which woke her, and now would not let her sleep. 

Giving up on any hopes of falling back to sleep the faunas roused herself from the couch. She slowly stretched her limbs, blinking the weariness from her eyes. A quiet groan escaped her as she rose to her feet and surveyed around her. The room had not changed since last she saw it. The carpet, the two doors, a small kitchen with a bar and stools, but something new sat upon the coffee table. 

Three translucent sacks, each filled with clothing. As she drew near them she saw they were similar sets in different colors; one set was red, another white, and one black. Blake looked to her own tatters and rags. The White Fang had not cared much if her clothing was ripped when they tried to murder her and her clothing was in poor shape. She would thank Weiss later. 

With a quick, cautionary glance around the room she quickly striped out of her worn clothes and set them by the trash bin in the kitchen. Picking out the sack of black clothing she quickly changed into the garments. They were warm, but light and not too cumbersome to be combat attire. The lining was made of a soft cotton material layered with what appeared to be a rubber between the lining and the exterior of the clothing. Blake had no idea what they were made from, but they weren’t casual clothes, or cheap either. 

As she was pulling on the boots at the bottom of the bag the door to the suite’s bedroom opened, and in stepped Weiss Schnee. 

"You’re awake then." The heiress stated as she entered, casting a quick glance towards the faunas. "And I see you’ve found the clothes I bought for you."

Weiss walked into the small kitchen, standing behind the counter as she rummaged through the shelves beneath. Blake followed suit, standing opposite Weiss on the other side of the counter.

"I did, and thank you. They fit well." Blake spoke conservatively as she faced her. She felt something was off about the way the heiress walked, and how she talked, and how tightly it seemed her lips were pulled into the most subtle and unreadable scowl she had ever seen. Being from the Schnee family, Blake knew Weiss had good poker face when necessary. And for something to disturb her so much that she broke that mask, that troubled the faunas greatly. 

"Good. That’s good…" Weiss began to trail off as she lay down the packets of coffee and began to count out sugar cubes. 

"Weiss, is something wrong?" Blake asked, watching closely for any more hints to the heiress’ thoughts.

“I am fine. Though I fear the night’s… happenings did not sit well with Ruby. She is resting, for now.” Weiss placed six of the cubes on a small tray alongside a dry mug. “As should you, Blake. You’ve been through a lot tonight, you should rest.” 

"I’ve had enough sleep for now." Blake pulled one of the bar-stools so she could sit on it as she watched, "Weiss, if there’s something wrong you don’t need to hide it."

Weiss tensed, nose flaring as she exhaled sharply. “I’m fine, Blake. Nothing’s wrong.”

"There’s obviously something, Weiss. Tell me. You said it yourself after I ran away. We’re teammates, if there’s something going on you can tell us." She paused, "You can tell me."

"Blake, it’s not like that so just…" Weiss looked up at her, pleading, "drop it. Please."

"No, Weiss, I’m not going to just drop it." Blake said, rising from the stool, her fist clenching at her side. 

"I’m not going to let you hide this- whatever it is! We’re on a team, Weiss, you can’t shut me out of this. I’m trying to be a good teammate, a good friend. So please, don’t hide this from me. What happened, Weiss, tell me.” 

"Blake, please. Not now," The heiress’ voice was coarse with the tension coiling in her, "I’ll explain everything later just, give me sometime. I’ll tell you everything, after Ruby wakes up. I don’t know how much all of this has affected her and.. I just… I have to take care of her Blake.”

Blake sucked in a breath through her nose as she tried to reign in her emotions. As she stared at the heiress she saw how her friend was troubled just as much as she was by all this. She had pressed Weiss for information, had demanded that she share something she obviously wasn’t comfortable talking about. Blake knew exactly what that felt like, to be cornered and hounded by people prying at her life.

She wondered, though, of what could have shaken Ruby so much. And just how much of what Weiss was going through was purely her concern for Ruby. 

"I’m sorry, Weiss, that was rude of me." Blake said, stepping away from the counter and letting her fist loosen. "I just wanted to help."

The heiress’ pride, however, was not beyond her reach, “I can handle myself, thank you. But I appreciate your concern.”

Blake sighed heavily. Somehow she found it unsurprising that the heiress refused to admit any weakness whatsoever no matter the legitimacy of her friends’ concern. Or were they even friends at all? Blake wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand Weiss had made an effort to ease the troubled waters between them, but could she really believe her? After all her talk of being a team, of being unified, she wasn’t sure how much of what Weiss did was because she cared, or if it was for the sake of the team.

Blake needed space. She began walking towards the door. 

"Wait!" Weiss’ demeanor changed in an instant. The tension was gone, replace by some unreadable emotion. "Where are you going?"

"Out," Blake replied, "You obviously need some time, and I need some space. Maybe I’ll go find Yang, do you know where she went?"

Weiss faltered, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Yang is…I mean—you can’t go, Blake.”

"What do you mean I can’t go? Is that what this is all about?" It was as if she’d finally found the right places to put the pieces of some grand puzzle as the heiress faltered. "No, it’s Yang isn’t it? That why you’ve been so tense, that’s why you’ve been trying to brush me off. Somethings happened to Yang, hasn’t it?"

The huntress flinched at the mention of the blonde beauty’s name, “Blake, not now.” 

The words held some conviction, but Blake could see her resolve crumbling. “Tell me, Weiss. What happened to Yang? Where is she? She’s my partner. I deserve to know if something’s happened to her.”

"Blake, you don’t know what you’re asking." Weiss’s voice faltered as she spoke. Blake pressed her again.

"Where is Yang?" She asked, "Tell me."

"Stop this, Blake." Weiss pleaded.

"If you won’t tell me, then I’ll go find her myself." Blake whirled and faced the door again. She only got three steps before Weiss called out to her. 

"And what will you do if it’s not her that you find out there?"

The faunas paused, looking back at the heiress. “Not…her?”

Weiss’ grip strained the counter beneath her fingers. “Yang didn’t get to you in time. We couldn’t save you. You died, Blake. We checked, again and again. But you were dead and there was nothing we could do.”

"You’re lying." The faunas said quickly. She was alive, she couldn’t have died, she was sure she would have known something like that.

"I wish I was lying. I really, honestly do, Blake," Weiss continued, "But I’m not, this is the truth. You died, and Yang, she wouldn’t let you go. She used her aura to bring you back." 

Yang had brought her back, with her aura?

"Just like in those old stories, about huntresses who gave their power to others to save their lives. But just like those stories, something else entered her. Something that’s going to turn her into a monster."

Blake reeled at the heiress’ revelation. “That’s impossible. They’re just stories.” 

"Coming from you that phrase doesn’t carry much weight, does it? You know better. Nothing’s just a story." Weiss walked from behind the counter to the coffee table, "There is some truth to it. Aura transfers are already dangerous enough; The absence left behind can leave someone bed ridden for weeks. But it’s not unheard of for people to get possessed by the Grimm after performing one." 

The faunas felt dizzy as her mind processed what was being said. The burning, ever present, was blazing hotter and hotter beneath her skin with every moment.

"We were right next to the forest when she did it. A forest that’s old, and dark, and filled with Grimm. The risk was too great, there was just too much of the Grimm’s presence around, but Yang did it anyways." Weiss walked passed the table, clenching idly at her skirt as she walked to the other side of the room.

"How can you know that she’s really been… That she’ll turn into some monster?"

"Because, Blake," Weiss said, "There’s no other way that she could have brought you back. She gave you everything, she had to have. I don’t think there was anything left of Yang after that."

"Can’t we do something?" The words left her with a shaky breath, the fire under skin was slowly becoming more and more unbearable.

"There is a chance. If the possession isn’t too far, we might be able to reverse it. There are accounts from huntresses whom say they’ve seen it happen, but they’re vague. They don’t say how they did, just that they did."

Blake let the information settle as she pushed the pain away. Had Yang really done that? Had she risked everything to save her? A part of Blake reminded her that she wasn’t worth saving. What had she ever done to deserve such a sacrifice? 

"I have to go," Blake said, finding her words lacking much confidence.

"Do you really?" Weiss asked, holding a large cloth sack in her arms.

"I have to," Blake said, eyes meeting the other huntress’, "I have to find her. If there’s a chance, a chance you’re wrong or there’s some way to save her I’ll take it. I have to." 

Weiss sighed deeply, but nodded. She closed the distance between them and handed her the cloth sack. “If you have to go, then at least take this.”

Blake took the sack and opened it carefully before taking out the contents with a practiced care. It was her Gambol Shroud, though it was a bit damaged. From a quick glance she could see that trigger mechanism was broken, and the ribbons were torn. But it was there, and she was grateful for what little comfort the weapon offered.

"Thank you," she said, not quite meeting Weiss’ eye. 

"Be careful," The heiress replied. 

Blake opened the suite’s door, and left without another word to the heiress. That was the last time she ever saw Weiss Schnee. And sometimes, when she let her thoughts wonder back, she wondered if she should have said good bye. 

~~~~~~

It was almost day break by the time she reached the forest. It had been only a few hours since she was here before. Since she had died. Blake didn’t know if she believed what the heiress told her. It certainly did not sound very credible. But she had her suspicions. 

The wounds she suffered were beyond normal healing. She had taken quite the beating at the hands of the White Fang and she knew the limits of what her aura could heal on it’s own. She should have at the very least a few scars and bruises left, but there was nothing. No mark, no abrasions, she was just as she was before the ambush. Minus, of course, the fire under her skin. And she had no way of explaining that. For now the burning subsided, but she knew somehow that this would not last. 

Blake found Yang’s trail with little effort. The snow had preserved it in the time she had been away. She followed it into the forest, going deeper and deeper into the sprawl of barren trees. Their trunks sprung from the snow like spires from a sandy desert. The swells and slopes were shaped by the wind, but there was none blowing as Blake walked onward. 

She spent the rest of that day following the tracks, slowly making up the distance between her and Yang. As night fell around her she stopped and made camp in the forest, building a small fire. As she sat there another fire returned. The fire under her skin, the blaze that had woken her and burned as she heard Weiss’ tale. 

It wasn’t so hot now. Rather it was a comfortable warmth that flowed from her stomach and through her tired body. Combined with the fire she had started, the two flames heat slowly eased her into a deep, peaceful slumber.

She dreamed.

She dreamt of Yang. Or rather, she dreamt she was Yang. She watched through the brawler’s eyes as she raced down the streets of Vale. She felt the strain on Yang’s arms as she carried Blake. She felt a tightness in her chest, her heart beating thunderously as she pushed her self forward. Yang came to rest outside the forest, laying Blake’s body in the snow. The brawler exchanged words with someone; Blake could not see whom she was talking to, nor hear the words she was saying. But then, Yang turned away from that other person, and her eyes were cast down at the body below her. 

"Thanks, Weiss," 

Yang’s voice drifted in her ears, coming from everywhere and echoing in her mind. 

"Now or never I guess…"

A chill pierced her, spreading through her chest. Yang’s chest. 

"Blake, forgive me." 

Yang leaned forward, until she was scant inches from Blake’s forehead. The chill ran deeper, and heat pooled at Yang’s lips.

"Ruby…I’ll always love you." 

An explosion. The world disappeared. Blood filled Blake’s throat and she rolled to her side couching it out onto the snow. Fire danced under her skin, the snow froze her with it’s touch. She heard the crunch of it as she lay there writhing, shifting as someone stood up from beside her. She turned, looking up to see the face of the one who had been laying with her. She saw a mess of blonde tangles and two blood red eyes staring back. 

"Yang?"

Blake woke up.

It was still night when she woke. The light of her fire was dimmer now, but the moon was full above her. It’s light reflected easily off the white snow, filling in the shadows of the trees with an eerie lunar glow. The flames dance was becoming smaller as she watched, the snow that had melted around the hole she’d made dipping wet droplets that mixed with the ash. 

Within her the heat of the flames was constant, but it was not burning as it was before. The fire was dimmed, like a gas furnace turned low, unable to burn any hotter than what fuel it’s given. It was steady, and the steadiness unnerved her. 

She thought back to the dream. Or was it more a memory than a dream? The dream itself had felt real, and she had awoken in the field, coughing up blood. But had Yang been there? She couldn’t remember. Nor did she remember Yang saying those words she had so clearly spoke in the dream. She had asked Blake to forgive her, but what for? What could Yang have done that she would need to ask the faunas’ forgiveness? 

Yang had been nothing but helpful ever since Blake had arrived at Beacon. Though she was a bit brutish in some ways the faunas had found it charming. Yang had a way about her that made Blake feel comfortable being a faunas at Beacon, something that was a rarity at the huntress academy. The security of Yang’s presence, her self-assured attitude, it inspired Blake in many ways. Luck had been on her side the day they’d become partners, and Blake was forever grateful for that windfall. 

She stood, stretching her limbs and beating back the weariness as she checked the time. It was an hour until dawn, or so said the wristwatch she had picked up from Vale before entering the forest. Surveying the area she found that she could see fairly well in the current light. Seeing no reason she should stay where she was any longer, she began to pack up the camp. 

Casting a glance towards the fire she glimpsed something in the shadow of the trees behind it.

And two red eyes stared right back. 

Her breath caught. The eyes grew brighter and closer, shinning bright with an inner glow that swirled in slow spirals. She could her the crunch of boots on snow as they grew closer and her eyes caught flashes of the figure they belonged to.

The figure was tall. On it’s shoulders there was draped a sort of cape or cloak of some kind, all black fur with a collar of white bone spikes. It’s arms hung limply at it’s sides as it approached and she saw the twin golden gauntlets adorning it’s muscular forearms. Boots, shorts, jacket, the clothing was all the same as the Yang’s but Blake could not see her face in the shadow. And then, as the figure stepped into the light, Blake saw what had become of Yang. 

Golden locks fell from behind a white mask, the red eyes starring though two holes in the bone white fixture. All of Yang’s clothing was crusted with dried blood, the yellow that had held the brawler’s chest dyed a brownish red. The Ember Celica were broken, the metal was twisted and bent, digging into her palms and fingers. 

Blake felt sick as she saw the state of her partner. Her chest tightened as the air was drawn from her lungs. All she could do was stand and watch as Yang drew closer to her. She was beginning to see the truth. And it was horrifying. 

"And what will you do if it’s not her that you find out there?"

Weiss’ words echoed in her ears and Blake felt the bitter sting of it all. It was true after all. Blake had died. Yang had saved her. And now her beloved partner, her friend, her fire, was a monster. 

Yang approached her with heavy steps. The snow yielding softly as the beast approached the faunas. Blake felt the words tumbling from her mouth like water.

"Are you there, Yang?" She asked, " Tell me, please. Tell me you’re there."

The beast took a step. 

"Answer me, please." 

Another. 

"Yang, Answer me." 

The beast stepped around the fire. 

"Yang…please." Blake’s voice was ever so small.

Yang stood before her. Blake reached out to her, her fingers brushed against the ruined jacket for a moment. 

The beast moved, growling as Blake reached out to her and lashing out at the black faunas. Her fist connected with Blake’s stomach, knocking the air out the girl’s lungs. Blake doubled over, gasping for air as the beast raised her leg and slammed it into her side. The faunas fell over with a cry of pain. 

The beast pick Blake up by the collar of the heavy coat she wore, growling from behind the white mask. Blake looked into it’s eyes at it picked her up, the swirling red glowing menacingly as she starred down at her. This was not Yang. Yang was gone, and this monster had taken her body. Blake reached her hands behind her, gripping the black ribbon tied there. She pulled, and Gambol Shroud’s hilt fell into her grasp. Blake grit her teeth, biting back the tears that threatened to escape. 

And then she cut her. 

The sword swung, slicing through flesh and the beast howled in pain, dropping the faunas. Blake did not stumble. She readied her blade, screaming all her anguish as it came flashing again. The beast howled, it’s fury poured into it’s voice as it struck out at her again. But the blow did not connect. And Blake struck again. 

And again. And again. And again. Her screams echoed through the woods as she stabbed and sliced and swung Gambol Shroud. Tears spilled from her eyes. Her throat was raw and dry. Blake felt the blade move in her hands, felt as it connected and cut through, felt the flesh beneath her blade. And strike after strike came until she could no longer see what was before her. The blood flowed readily from the beast’s wounds, the white mask cracked and broke away when she struck it’s face. The fur cape it wore was matted with it’s own blood. And finally, with a last shuddering gasp, it collapsed. 

Blake stood over the body for a second, gasping for breath. And then she fell to it’s side and she wept. She buried her face in golden locks, matted with blood and sweat, and her tears seemed unending. 

"I’m so sorry, Yang. It’s my fault… It’s all my fault." 

As the tears fell she remembered. She remembered all the time she had spent with her partner. She remembered the feeling of being held in the blonde beauty’s embrace after they gone on a successful mission. She remembered all the ridiculous things that the blonde had done to cheer her up when ever she was sad.

But now she would never see her again. Blake was alone, left behind just as she had always been. A black cat, that was riddled with misfortune. 

A hand touched her shoulder.

"It’s gonna be okay, Blake."

Blake spun, rising to her feet with Gambol Shroud held in a white knuckled grip. She snarled, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked upon the person who’d dared touch her. Her eyes were met with brown and yellow wrapped around a muscled, well toned body. An amble chest and gauntlets to match. Blonde hair, long and tangled, framing lilac eyes and a soft smile the carried the warmth of a candle on a bedside table. 

Blake lost her grip on the blade, Gambol Shroud tumbled into the snow at her feet with a soft thump. She was struck speechless at the vision before her. 

"You can see me," Yang said, "Finally. I’ve been following you all this time, I was wondering how long it would take."

Blake found it hard to speak, “H-how..?” 

"How am I here?" The blonde pointed to her chest, "It’s because I gave you everything, Blake. My aura wasn’t enough to bring you back, so I gave you everything else too." 

"Why?" 

The blonde looked at her incredulously, “What do you mean?”

"Why did you do it?" Blake asked her, fists clenching at her sides.

Any trace of the blonde’s smile left her face, “What, no ‘Holy shit you’re a ghost’ or anything?” 

"I just fucking killed you, Yang!" Blake screamed, "I walked out here looking for you, trying to find some way to help you, Yang. And when I did find you you’re already gone. And so I killed that thing that took your body and now, now you’re asking me if I’m surprised that you’re some ghost or hallucination or something?” 

Blake stepped forward shoving her arms against the brawler. 

"Well I’m sorry," she said, "But I’ve had enough of this-this shit Yang. So don’t fucking ask me if I’m surprised, just tell me. Why did you do it, Yang? Why did you have to save me?"

The blonde looked away, her eyes downcast, “Because I couldn’t let you go.”

Blake rushed the other girl, burying her face in the crook of her neck as she gripped her tightly. She murmured Yang’s name as she sobbed. 

"I know it’s hard to lose someone you care about," Yang said, stroking Blake’s hair as she held her, "I know exactly what that’s like. But you’ll get through this. I know you can."

Blake sobbed into Yang’s arms, gripping the brawler tight. “I miss you, Yang.”

"I’m right here, Blake. And I’m never leaving you again. So chin up, eh? You can’t get rid of your partner that easily."

Blake stepped out of the embrace, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stooped down, picking up Gambol Shroud from where it lay in the snow. A black smoke was rising from where Yang’s body had been. The Grimm that had been inside had dispersed, causing the flesh to quickly and suddenly degrade. Floating away like blackened petals of a rose, the brawler’s body was gone.

“‘Every shadow passes. And a new day comes all the clearer’, right? Isn’t that how that quote goes?” Yang said, pointing to the where the sun was just coming up behind the mountains. 

"Close enough," said Blake as she turned to look at the dawn.

"Guess we’d better get going then. Don’t want to keep the others waiting. I’m sure they’ll have some story of there own to tell you when you get back." Yang took Blake’s hand, and lead the faunas back towards Vale.


End file.
